Arrangements
by dragonflybeach
Summary: Standing on Platform 9 3/4, Draco Malfoy reflects on his life after the war, his arranged marriage, and the happiness he has finally found.


His son was getting on the train to go to Hogwarts. It was the greatest moment of his life. It was also the most his heart had hurt in years.

Draco Malfoy spent the first two years after the war in a shell-shocked haze. Arthur Weasley had offered him a job within the ministry. He went to work, and he went home. He spoke to others as little as possible. He paid someone to do whatever shopping he needed done so he wouldn't have to go to Diagon Alley. He knew both sides saw him as a traitor. But he didn't care. Because if he didn't care about anyone or anything, it couldn't hurt him.

On his 20th birthday, his mother approached the subject of his marriage. He had been told years earlier that his parents had arranged a suitable match with the daughter of a pureblood family of the proper social status. He hadn't paid too much attention at the time, first because he was a child and the concept of marriage seemed so far away. Later, he had not expected to live long enough to marry, or for the Dark Lord to give him permission to do so if he survived.

His mother chattered about suitable mourning periods and time necessary to arrange a ceremony worthy of their status. Draco told her he didn't care. Just tell him when and where, and he would show up. It wasn't as if he had other options anyway. He wasn't going to fall in love with anyone. Ever.

He remembered the first weeks they were married, when he would lay beside her at night, close his eyes, and imagine she was a bloody brilliant witch with bushy hair. Or a fiercely independent redhead, or a dreamy eyed blonde who saw mythical creatures, and once even a Chinese girl with sad eyes. Not because he had any great affection for any of those girls, but because they were familiar and the one beside him was a stranger.

Yet it was the stranger who held him when he awoke screaming, gently stroking his hair and whispering soothingly that the evil in his head couldn't hurt him. In turn, he became the shoulder where she cried out the hurts of being the mostly ignored middle child between a sister who was Absolutely Freaking Perfect and a brother who was The Heir.

He began to notice little things about her. The way her eyes sparkled when she was happy. The way she made faces when she read The Prophet, betraying her thoughts on the subjects mentioned. The way she insisted on painting her toenails by hand rather than using a spell. The way her genuine warmth and friendliness won over many in the community who had shunned the Malfoys, and the way her quiet loyalty made the rest afraid to speak against her new family in front of her.

The most miraculous of all was the way she changed his parents. One night he had confessed his darkest secret – how he had always been jealous of the Weasleys and the ones they took in as adopted family, wishing he had a mum who fretted and baked cookies and a dad who spent time in the workshop with him. Astoria had always wished for the same type of family, so she decided to remake his into their fairy tale family. He never would have believed it if he hadn't been there the first time little Scorpius had cried "Gam-muffah!" and toddled over to Narcissa, who had picked him up delightedly, sticky hands and all. Little Delphinia had been disappointed that her big brother was going to Hogwarts and she wasn't, so today his parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, former pureblood supremacy poster children and models of public decorum, had taken their granddaughter to a muggle amusement park.

For all the things his parents had done wrong in his lifetime, and certainly there were more than any of them could begin to count, they had gotten it right when they chose Astoria Greengrass as his wife.

The Hogwarts Express was nearly out of sight, and the relatives assembled on the platform were starting to trickle toward the exits.

"Malfoy!" Harry Potter shouted over the din. "Join us for lunch? Ron's buying!" which earned him a good natured swat on the head from his brother in law.

"Come on, Draco, Astoria!" Hermione shouted, ducking from the slap fight that had broken out.

"We'd love to!" Astoria called back before he could answer.

They would have lunch with the members of the Weasley-Potter family and they would enjoy themselves. Draco no longer saw himself as superior due to his blood status, or inferior due to his cold and quiet home life. He, Harry, and Ron were equals. They had families who loved them, and they were each married to their best friend. And in the end, one couldn't ask for more than that.


End file.
